


Adrenaline

by kirogaraii



Series: A Bitter Sweet World : ShuuKazu [9]
Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: (and of course classic hatoful...), (murder/angst/suicide and comedy!), (well one sided as we know), Angst and Tragedy, Attempted Murder, BitterSweet AU : ShuuKazu, Character Study, Comedy, Enemies, Gen, M/M, Medical Procedures, Other, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirogaraii/pseuds/kirogaraii
Summary: Another ordinary day at the St. Pigeonation’s Academy. The sun is shining, the un-evolved doves are cooing softly in the trees, and a self-proclaimed virtuoso infiltrates the school to finally defeat his rival from long ago.＊ UPDATE 17/06/2020: This chapter has received an update! Please re-read it!
Relationships: Iwamine Shuu & Nishikikouji Tohri, Iwamine Shuu/Nanaki Kazuaki (Original)
Series: A Bitter Sweet World : ShuuKazu [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623460
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Adrenaline

The click of a fountain quill pen being capped signifies the end of another segment of his research paper. The doctor waits for a minute, glossing over the paragraphs of black ink, and gently blows at the paper to speed up the drying process. This might be a good moment to take a very brief break, otherwise his left wrist would seriously start to hurt.

Shuu’s eyes turn to the door of the infirmary, still closed and unsuspecting. By this hour, several students have showed up with sprained ankles and wings, and he feels that he is getting better and better at recognizing if a pair of feet is approaching the infirmary— even from across the whole hallway.

Hm, no, right now it isn’t one pair of feet. It’s more…

—A knock on the door, then a figure slides it open. A scratchy voice announces “Excuse us!”

Ryouta Kawara, Sakuya Le Bel Shirogane, and the more scientifically valuable one Okosan. The three troublemakers from class 2-3. Shuu recognizes that Ryouta is holding something bundled up in his arms, but remains silent until they come closer.

“Good afternoon.” he greets the boys politely, “Have you just now returned from the class hike? That took rather long.”

“Yes, it is because of that incompetent Nanaki.” Sakuya came forward with disgust in his voice, “He let this feral beast run around, and then had to chase him down across half of the city… Causing all of us to return to school fifteen minutes later than planned!”

“Coo!” Okosan bellowed behind them, “Professor Nanaki’s sluggish pace nearly put Okosan to sleep! Okosan had to stretch his legs out or he’d collapse right in the forest!”

“B-But anyway!” Ryouta interrupted the two frillbacks, what a relief, stepping closer to the doctor and his desk, “On the hike, we found an injured bird!”

“Injured bird~?” Shuu repeated with a curious lilt. Ryouta felt a little uneasy in how pleased he sounded.

“But it’s not evolved like us, this is a very small rock dove…”

Ryouta used his school uniform blazer to huddle this small animal, and now, he unfurled it on top of Shuu’s desk.

It is always very obvious, by first glance, that an unevolved and an evolved bird specimen has notable differences. The way a feral bird moves is stiff and clumsy, without the joints and muscles in their wings to perform tasks other than flying. The feral rock dove’s red eyes stuck in the sides of their head stared ahead with an absolutely thoughtless expression. Unlike Ryouta, or any other evolved bird, it simply cannot emote with its face, and its syrinx is incapable of producing anything other than a number of coos.

Coos that sound for the most part foreign to an evolved specimen like Ryouta, but there are some enunciations that they can understand.

Well for one, if a pigeon’s wing is broken and bloodied, even if you are a human, you can guess that it is in pain and distressed from this.

Nonetheless the feral pigeon tilted his head to the side, glaring at the doctor with one fiery orange eye. And the sentient partridge stared back into their very soul.

“I see.” he mumbled, not breaking eye contact with this little bird. “...Do you suppose that I have a PhD in veterinary medicine, Kawara?”

“W-Well, I assumed at first that you might say something like that, but… A bird is a bird, isn’t it? We both have wings, and they work and bend pretty much the same…”

“There are some differences. For one, this pigeon wouldn’t be able to bend its wings inwards, to carry another pigeon into an infirmary in its own school blazer.” Shuu teased. He finally sighed, concluding, “...But lucky for you, I  _ do _ have a PhD in veterinary medicine, additionally to a doctorate of medicine.”

“Of course the great doctor Iwamine has expertise in more than two fields of medicine, Kawara! You dare underestimate his ambitious genius!” Sung Sakuya from somewhere in the back.

“W-Well you could’ve just said so!” Ryouta urged intensely, “Doctor! The bird! It needs help! Can you help it, please?! We don’t know how long it was scrambling in the grass for! We came here running!”

“Yes, yes, I get it…” Shuu shoved some documents and pens aside, picking out only a very specific clipboard and a very specific pen. “Of course, I was just messing with you, hoho…”

He disinfected his hands, put on gloves, and pulled the blazer towards himself. The bird remains unmoving, only cooing sadly at the abrupt movement under its butt. “Yes, yes, I know.” Shuu muttered, turning it around to prepare for inspection of the bloodied wing.

“I suppose it’d be useless to ask you how it happened and where it hurts, hm?”

Sakuya loomed in from over Ryouta’s shoulder, “D-Does that mean you will treat it, doctor Iwamine?”

“I do not know yet. I am simply checking if it will even live until evening.” With professional movements, he analyzed the dove while explaining, “It technically isn’t within my rights to treat a bird, not even affiliated with the school. I am doing this… out of my own generosity. And scientific curiosity.”

“Thank you, doctor!” Ryouta announced almost optimistically, “I-I don’t know why, but I felt very inclined to help it when I saw it, even though we’re not related… Could it be that when we see an ancient member of our own species, we automatically feel very empathetic towards them?”

Shuu bit his lip, but still remained monotonous.

“...What a philosophical question…”

The bird pecked at Shuu’s wrist when he pressed a nerve. Luckily his skin is protected by layers of fabric, but it continued to tug at his hand, making low growls.

“...Do we feel empathetic…”

A glisten appeared in the doctor’s eye, as he caught a glimpse of a bare bone.

“...Our brains continue to come closer to that of humans. And human brains are the most complex, in our world. Personality, which is determined by life experiences, alongside genes… There are humans who would react with sympathy at the sight of an injured little neanderthal, and there are humans who would react with disgust. Some would surely try to help it, and some might stomp it dead, maybe to end its suffering faster.

I don’t think that it is  _ solely _ the matter of feeling a kinship.

You are just… a very kind, well-meaning, sympathetic man, Kawara…”

“‘Man’? I’m only fifteen…?!” Ryouta squinted but decided to gloss over that last part, returning his focus to the rock dove. “Well, anyway, if you say so…uh, thank you, I guess.”

“Coo!” Okosan joined in on staring at the doctor’s dainty hands at work, “Okosan also felt inspired. He thinks that being so hurt that his body is too weak to move is one of the scariest things in the universe! But Okosan also wonders… What is doctor Iwamine going to do with the injured pigeon now?”

“Hm. Well…” Shuu tilted his head with an analytical expression. He squinted, raised an eyebrow, licked his teeth behind his lips…

“Obviously the wing needs to be amputated.”

“EH!”

“COO!”

“Are you… Are you gonna do it immediately, doctor? And what then?” words of support from the Le Bel.

“If everything goes well, then I will rehabilitate the bird until it’s injuries are mostly healed, and afterwards… Bring it to a wildlife rescue center. It won’t survive in the wilderness with one wing.

…And also…

…I can’t exactly perform surgery with you children standing here and blabbering.” Shuu eyed the boys coldly, “Leave the infirmary.”

“Oh, of course, exactly! Haven’t you heard what he said?” The most puffed up fantail grabbed Ryouta by the collar of his shirt, and Okosan’s neck feathers, dragging them towards the exit.

“Coo!” “Ow ow ow ow—! I can walk fine by myself, Sakuyaa!” The little Ryouta pleas but Sakuya shows no mercy. “W-Wait, what will happen with my jacket?”

“You can come pick it up tomorrow.” Shuu heard Ryouta make a whiny “Okay, good luck!—” before the door slid shut. The muffled, distant voices fade out, as he hears the students retreat into the depths of the hallway to return to their classrooms.

The pigeon was surprisingly still, which initially lead him to believe that it truly is at the brink of its energy. Whether he can succeed or not is up for luck to decide… But Shuu Iwamine decided a long time ago that he will become a genuine doctor, and no matter what, if he sees a flickering chance of success, he will do his best to help another bird. “Let’s name you… Patient One for now.”

Escorting the pitiful animal onto a much more suitable place for surgery preparations, a little thought comes to the doctor’s mind…

“Patient  _ ‘One’ _ … Another Patient  _ ‘Kazu’ _ , hm?”

He laughed heartily, as the pigeon quickly ceased movement from anesthesia.

“...Aah, so foolish…”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Midday.

The sun is up in the sky, it’s rays illuminating the golden locks of a man on a mission.

His eyes are sharp, straightforward and determined. The faces of civilians, all so much less impressive than him, but their presence only enhances his own confidence. His voice is like a breath of spring, even when he mutters his own deliciously evil plans into the fur of his gaudy, gaudy cape.

Today is finally the day.

He has used up many chances in the recent weeks, months. All met with crushing defeat, leaving him with no choice but to retreat and cry  _ ‘uncle!’ _

_ —Not anymore. _ Today, Nishikikouji Tohri will be the one to triumph. Today, it will be ‘Iwamine Shuu’ gaping his jaw and gripping his miserable little desk chair for dear life.

A chiptune melody startles the golden pheasant mid-stroll. He reaches in his stylishly decorated bag, shoving aside some crucial and important to today’s plan details—

“Nishikikouji Tohri speaking. Yes? Ah, you guys… Okay, wait, how about this… Move the article to one of the last three pages. And pick four posters from the back rooms and leave them on my desk, I’ll choose what to use when I come back. Anything else? …Oh yeah, nice! Good job everyone. Alright~ yes, talk to you later.”

Power off, back into the bag it goes, “Ahh… I leave for one hour, and already the whole building is on fire!” monologued Tohri. “But don’t you guys worry, dooon’t you worry… We’ll be ending the weekend with a truly powerful pay-off, once this character arc of mine is finally complete.”

The massive school building, embraced by coral-pink bricks and white pillars, felt like a powerful bastion. It all sept of such vigorous energy, that Tohri simply had to take the moment to breathe in and sigh. Keeping a cool, but enchanting demeanor is the key of a Nishikikouji’s success. He took another look at the ray gun resting sweetly in his bag, and moved forward.

Tohri Nishikikouji entered the school grounds through the wide-open gate.

“Let’s see…” in an alluring manner. he established his plot to an invisible audience, “At this time of the day, all students should be busy in their classrooms. This time, for real, I am absolutely confident that Iwamine Shuu is present, in the school, at these exact hours. It’s just the two of us… And a few layers of concrete between us, I suppose. Now, where are youuu…”

The infirmary is on the ground-level of the school, albeit somewhat in the back of the building. It is in a corner, too. Simply walking in on Shuu is way too easy, it’s out of the question! Defeating Shuu, which is already an obvious win for Tohri, is not the entire plan. He needs the people to be there to see it; the dramatic showdown of two opposing forces! It will only be fair that way, to give that doctor the taste of his own medicine!

“Hmmm…”

Hiding in a nearby bush, Tohri booted up his gaudy binoculars and scanned the infirmary window, or at least whatever he could get from this angle.

“...Are you there, Isa Souma…” zooming in, “...Gaaah…I don’t see anyone moving in there…But anyhow, my reliable sources tell me that he stays here every single day— including summer! Hehehehehe…

I shall deftly lure out that impudent partridge, and I’ll make him cry uncle with my new… proliferously imaginative weapon!!

…Hahahaha… And now, let the show begin.”

Saying that, Tohri Nishikikouji disappeared from the view of security cameras.

It really doesn’t take much effort at all to infiltrate an academy, well, not to a genius like him, obviously. Slipping by the halls and hallways, he got ever so closer to that cursed infirmary.

_ And even if he isn’t there, in an absurd twist of events, I can also take the opportunity to place a camera or two in there. Someone carelessly broke the last three ones that I hid there, after all. _

He thought, and soon enough, he was standing right in front of the sliding door.

Tohri glanced at the hallway surrounding him one more time, to make sure no one is following him, and then returned his wondrous gaze to this. First, he pressed his ear to the door, listening for a sign of life inside it.

It was quiet. Dead quiet. But Tohri is as stubborn as he is skilled and healthy; he continued for a minute longer. And just when he was starting to doubt himself, he heard a  _ clink _ in the infirmary. There was a sound of glass and shuffling documents, without a doubt. A devilish grin lit up the pheasant’s face.

It really is him. Isa Souma.

Tohri’s heart skipped a beat.

The adrenaline rises.

Right off, Tohri wanted to culturally open the door like a respectful person, but thankfully he stopped himself. He has to get his energy all the way up! All his life has led to this moment, half of his life, he has spent cursing this chukar partridge and all he stands for. This is it, this is really it!

Tohri Nishikikouji slammed the door open with such velocity that it shook the wall, bottles of medicines jittered on their shelves. It was like lightning before a massive thunder;

“ISA SOUMA!”

The breath of spring-voice has picked up in assertive volume and might, as Tohri barged in with his chest puffed up in pride, his cape dancing in the air ferociously.

The doctor was not by his desk, though. He had dragged his chair over to  _ another end _ of the infirmary, and sat before something which was out of Tohri’s sight. He had his back turned on him.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you.”

Shuu rotated in his chair to see the visitor. But equally as pokerfaced as he was at the beginning, even after seeing Tohri, he continued to stare without any significant change in mood.

He stammered at first, but didn’t lose his composure; “How? Well good thing you’re asking that! Isa Souma, you better stay put in that little chair of yours, because what you are about to witness will absolutely shatter you completely!

I, Nishikikouji Tohri, have come here to reclaim what is rightfully mine; the spotlight, the pride, the support—”

“Can you summarize it into ten words or less, please? I am quite busy at the moment.”

An invisible bullet pierced right into Tohri’s chest with those words alone. He stood there, stupidly, for a brief second, before blood rushed to his face, flushing red. “Y-You…” he gasped, “What is that supposed to mean?! How uncultured can you get?! How dare you look down on me, when I am about to end your entire life?!”

Shuu was close to returning to his work without acknowledging the obnoxious visitor up until that last sentence, prompting him to glance his way again. “Hoho. Well, whoever that ‘Isa Souma’ person is sure has a big storm coming, doesn’t he… If you’re gonna talk him to death like this.”

How, what, why…

Those were all the questions spiraling up inside Tohri’s head. How is it possible for this bird to throw everyone for a loop with just his words alone. It’s infuriating—

“Wha…What the? What do you mean ‘whoever that Isa Souma person is’?! But you reacted!!!” a pathetic voice crack, “When I entered saying ‘ISA SOUMA’… You replied with ‘Good afternoon, how can I help you’!”

“Ah. I suppose it’s because you have an accent. I assumed that ‘Isa Souma’ is some kind of greeting from the south. Like ‘howdy’ in English.”

“WHAT.”

The other man upholstered himself so much that Shuu could not help but chuckle at the sight. “Kukuku.” What a grotesque situation. Very grotesque.

“Ah, ahaha!” Laughed Tohri almost mockingly to Shuu’s subdued one. It seemed that a little lightbulb went off inside his head, prompting Tohri to cross his arms and scoff once more. “I see how it is. Very committing to the ‘What Takaba Labs? I’ve never heard of any Takaba Labs.’ persona aren’t you? How humiliating of me to  _ almost _ fall for it~!” Tohri rested his hands on his hips, “Well then let’s put that  _ aaaaall _ to the side for now, Isa Souma. Let’s talk like men.

I know who you are, you know who I am… Let’s get down to business.”

A low understanding hum rumbled from the doctor’s throat. “Hm, I see. There is a fault in your perception, however.” he mumbled, starting to scratch his chin, “…I  _ don’t _ know who you are. All I can assume from the information presented above is that you are from the Takabane Laboratories.”

Shuu’s eyes travelled up to the ceiling, “...That was a while ago…”

He took a look at the windows, making sure that they are closed and no outsider can hear the conversation that is about to take place. The door is closed. Today morning he searched and found no tapwires or otherwise suspicious objects hidden in the infirmary. Shuu Iwamine slouched down in his seat, lacing his fingers together.

“I suppose the news has not reached you yet, but… I am not even remotely affiliated with the Hawk Party. Everything that happened to, or relating to Souma Isa, prior to the year 2184 is… a closed file. Souma Isa died that year. If you have any concerns regarding the projects and experiments that he performed when he was active, then you can try asking for assistance from the Earth Crawlers. I assume you know how to get in touch with them.

I do not know who you are… Mister Nishikikouji. I don’t recall seeing you. And whether it was Isa’s conscious or subconscious decision to forget you is irrelevant, because he is dead. Nothing remains. You are completely, entirely, insignificant.”

Shuu said all that while maintaining strict eye contact with Tohri, just a few meters ahead. “This conversation is therefore meaningless and useless. You are wasting energy standing there and yelling, and I am wasting time staring at you. Please go home.”

The other man was left rooted into the tiled floor, gaping his lips slightly once the information caved into him, one sentence at a time. He refused to surrender, no— surrender was impossible.

“You don’t…” his volume picked up again, “You don’t  _ remember _ me?!” there was a very obvious voice crack there, “In other words, you think so lowly of me that ruining my career was like flicking a fly off your suit?! You fool! How disgraceful! How embarrassing of you to turn your back on me, then!”

“Ruining your career?”

“This just proves it. I cannot let you carry on living. I’ll defeat you! I’ll defeat you, even if I die trying!

It’s no use trying to stop me. As long as my monstrous rival still stands, life has no meaning!”

Shuu’s question went completely unheard, for that is exactly when Tohri pulled his right hand out of the disguise of his mantle, and revealed a shimmering, extravagant, golden gun. He aimed it right at the doctor, with a devilish look in his eyes.

“Behold, the Nishikikouji Masterpiece No. 632, The Miniature Optical Weapon DIMENSION BOMBER! …※ still in it’s beta phase, brittle, oh so brittle, but absolutely deadly!”

His demeanor did not falter in the slightest as Tohri came closer, with his arm still stretched out. “Are you trembling, partridge? You must be at the edge of your seat! Quite literally. Any last words, before my DIMENSION BOMBER obliterates you, leaving not a single molecule behind?”

And as stubbornly as it was of Tohri to continue on with his upholstered expression, Shuu maintained an apathetic, completely careless look. He simply placed his hands on his knees and said…

“No.”

“E…Eh?”

That antagonistic face washed off his face immediately. Again.

“What the… Do you not value your life at all?!”

“No.”

And that answer may have come a little too fast. It shook something inside him, the fact that he admitted it so easily, but it was…

One of the most honest things he said in his life.

Shuu continued from that. “You are basing your own life’s meaning on another bird whose life has no meaning. How paradoxical, is it not. But it begs the question, would this even make a difference? The Earth Crawlers do have interesting social experiments and assassination techniques, but would my death truly result in you getting your career back?

Judging by how you present yourself, you don’t look like someone buried in poverty because they lost their job.

But who am I to judge. Maybe there are people who see me and assume that I have my life in order too.

All these questions, but there is no meaning in asking them, I suppose. I will die in a minute anyway, correct?”

The longer that partridge kept dragging on, the more stunned and othered it made Tohri feel. It’s like they’ve been in this place before, at a different time. Somewhere a long time ago.

.

“It’s really impressive,” a researcher leans in to show his co-worker a clipboard of documents, “LiSciRe has finished another one of those up-for-grabs missions, even though there’s only three birds working there now. How ambitious, eh?”

“Give me that!” I said, ripping the document out of my employee’s hand. It was indeed as he said. Every single task on the list was accepted by and finished by one bird. Not only is the frequency impressive, but the times themselves as well. Those four kanji were plain splattered onto the page one after another, to the point where I thought that if I have to read one more sentence in my life with those characters in them, I’ll combust.

Isa Souma. Isa Souma. Isa Souma. Isa Souma.

Isa Souma this. Isa Souma that. Isa Souma stealing the opportunities of his neighboring lab. Isa Souma stealing my spotlight, my career, my funds!

I had enough of it. The paper crumbled in my closed fist, as I headed out towards the door.

And when I entered LiSciRe, it was near empty. The main room, that is. This place was usually busier. There was still one or two researchers filing documents and shuffling through lists, but now, where is the head of this operation?

The head of the division was once decorated with useless garbage and trinkets, letters, clothes, and the smell of instant meals. It always felt like it was four items away from becoming claustrophobic. But now it was the contrary. The emptiness, the greyness. There still were some boxes laying around with packed familiar items… Things left behind by Kawara Ryuuji.

And amidst all of it, lit up by just one desk lamp, was a young bird with horrible posture, turning his back on the world, and scribbling line after line in a document.

It seemed like he hasn’t brushed his hair in days, and the smell suggested the same as well. Isa Souma was in a trance.

“Hey, you! Head of LiSciRe!” I called out, but he ignored me. So I went ahead with more intensity, I grabbed his little shoulder.

The last time I did that, he stared back at me with widened eyes, someone frozen and detached from shock. But now, his eyes were…

empty.

“What do you want from me.”

he said, and his tone offended me. He stared at me like there was nothing before him. It didn’t even seem like his pupils were fixated on me, and instead on something far away instead. And it offended me. But at the same time, it made me concerned.

“Y-You are… You don’t look like you’ve left this room ever since the funeral.”

“I have.”

“Have you. Not for a shower, or a few minutes of fresh air though, I assume.”

“…I am…following my schedule as usual.”

“Good christ.” I put a hand over my face, “This institution is run by morons. How could they place someone of your total irresponsibility as the head of a division? This lab is gonna rot, and you’ll die along with it, Isa Souma.”

“Why should I care.”

...“Why should I care if I die.”

This was the same bird sitting before Tohri as it was back then. His voice has deepened and his face has become sharper, but the eyes haven’t changed. Just like he said, he died all those years ago, but his body continued to live.

This unnerving feeling of something twisting inside his stomach. He let his guard down for a minute too long, letting those dead violet eyes suck the life of him as well. Tohri’s grip on the weapon weakened.

As if he couldn’t get any more distracted, a weak sound startled both of them into the real world. It sounded like a bird’s call from behind Shuu. “...What is that?” asked Tohri. He let his gun-wielding arm down. Shuu twirled around in the desk chair calmly, facing what now Tohri realized, is a rather big cage, about a meter across, on top of a cabinet. It’s interior—fabrics, wheat grass, and bowls of sands and pellet—suggested that it is prepared for… a pet?

From a cotton-fabric-shelter in the middle of the cage, the head of a small feral pigeon poked out. It cooed again, shortly.

“It’s a dove. I was urged by some students to rehabilitate it, even though it is not a student. Not even evolved, or sentient. A completely average pigeon, whose ancestors developed immunity to the counter-virus that caused us upbringing.” Explained doctor Iwamine. “It’s nothing shocking or particularly interesting, from a medical perspective. I can’t even use it as a test subject for my medicine, because it’s immune and digestive system is vastly underdeveloped compared to ours. And yet… I plan on keeping it here until it heals completely, and I will bring it to a sanctuary. It’s not like it’ll ever survive in the wilderness by itself.”

“I…see…” Tohri tilted his head to the side and stared at the bird with one eye, as if his inner avian instincts urged him to commute with this strange little creature in a caveman-gesture language. “Wait, why wouldn’t it be possible to let it go?”

The pigeon, seemingly unprovoked, trotted out of its little hiding spot to reveal that… One of its wings is entirely missing, amputated, and the other, bandaged as well, but from the size of the stub only half of it appeared to be in-tact. Tohri isn’t easily squeamish, yet he couldn’t help but cringe a little at the sight. “U-Uwah. Well that answered itself.” he mumbled, “Unevolved birds experience pain, don’t they.”

“Yes, they do. They have pain receptors as any mammal. It is currently sedated, hence why it’s so calm. It would be a shame if it started pecking at its wounds from irritation and making a bloody mess.” Shuu cupped his own face, leaning against the surface of the cabinet, “…Hah. I keep referring to you as an ‘it’, even though I already determined that you are a hen. Aren’t sentient creatures arrogant. But it’s not like you can feel offended at my language. It would take a long time for you to remember and react to at least one word in our language. I haven’t even given you a proper name, either. Now that is just unprofessional. Yet nothing comes to mind, beside ‘Patient One’”

A faint sarcastic smile appeared on Shuu’s face for a moment. His demeanor slowly sank down again after a moment of silence, his tone low and quiet.

“Nishikikouji.

…If you are intending on killing me in a minute, could you allow me to refill Patient Kazu’s water supply. We can’t guess how long it’ll take before someone finds my body, let alone how long it’ll take for someone to take care of this animal.

I don’t suppose that… there is anything else that’s valuable to me at the moment.”

Tohri looked down at Shuu’s brown head of hair and swallowed spit slowly. “…Don’t try anything funny. I’ll definitely destroy you the moment I see fit!”

Shuu affirmed it, with a flat “Of course.”

Inconspicuously, the doctor got up from his chair and retrieved the bowl, with marbles and just a little bit of water in it, from the cage. Not paying attention to Tohri’s gun following after his head, he approached the sink, and began to rinse the bowl and it’s contents under water. It didn’t take particularly long and Shuu was already heading back with the fresh cold water, but nonetheless, something so eerie about their silence made Tohri feel uncanny.

“I have already written my will, by the way.” spoke Shuu out of the sudden. He opened the cage in order to insert the bowl of water inside. “I would’ve preferred for my death to be more discreet, without shattering the skull and brain, but at least my organs will be preserved. Unless… You have other plans, sir? How do you plan on killing me without getting arrested?”

“…I have my plans, don’t you worry, Isa Souma. Evildoers like you don’t deserve to die in convenient circumstances.” Those words came out fluently out of Tohri’s lips. There is only one bird that is able to bring out such horrendous words and actions out of him, and that bird is before him right now, still under gunpoint. “So you should feel honored to die by a bullet to the brain. I could have kidnapped and tortured you in my basement instead.”

“…Well okay.”

“Y-…You are still completely calm?! Now it’s starting to piss me off,” complained Tohri, “it’s not like I want to put you out of your misery! I want you to suffer!”

“Hah.” An unfitting to the situation, condescending grin curled up Shuu’s lips. Enough that a charming little dimple formed in his cheek, “And yet you called  _ me _ picky.”

“You!” Tohri cursed, becoming stiff again, he breathed in to prepare for another outrageously villainous rant, but found himself at a loss of words. He simply growled at the doctor; “You gamebird!”

“Goodness, how much longer is this going to take. I could’ve brewed and drank two mugs of coffee by now. My jaw is starting to hurt from all the useless blabber. Just kill me, Nishikikouji.”

“I absolutely will!”

Saying that, Tohri straightened his arm again. Tendons underneath the glove of his hand protruding from how tight he clenched the grip of the gun. He glared daggers into Shuu’s empty, apathetic face, but still…

did not pull the trigger. He bit his lip, he furrowed his brow, he even managed to change his stance and pose for the magnificent destruction to come. He started to think that this could’ve gone easier if he just choked Iwamine with his bare hands. He began to feel itchy in some places, and a single drop of sweat formed on his cheek. But he still…did not pull the trigger.

Shuu made no further comments. However, he eyed the analog clock on the wall, and listened to the seconds ticking by.

The silence slowly settled in within Tohri, as he finally found the balance in himself to commit this gruesome but delightful crime. He reminded himself of every script he practiced for this moment, and every ounce of hatred for Isa Souma within him. He breathed in, preparing for his final villainous monologue. And then…

“Hmm, actually… What kind of weapon is this, precisely?” asked doctor Iwamine. He asked it he did. Indeed, he— Tohri once again felt like he was thrown for a loop. “Y-Y-You’re asking-…?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an annhiliating weapon that is quite this small and efficiently sized. I’m actually fascinated. May I have a closer look on it?” Shuu looked up into Tohri’s eye sincerely. Tohri blinked, a pink tinting his cheeks. “Well, well obviously! Haha! Hahaha~! My Nishikikouji Masterpieces are without a doubt the pinnacle of convenience, effectivity, and glamour!” the pheasant caressed the gun’s shaft almost affectionately, “Hohoho~ Isa Souma, do you finally admit it?”

“Admit what.”

“DEFEAT!” sang Tohri, “You are impressed! You are admitting defeat. Just say it, say it once! Cry uncle! And then say it again when I pull out my camera—!”

“I’m not… admitting defeat anyhow. How can I make a valid criticism of your work if you won’t let me look at it?” Shuu enunciated his words suspiciously, “Just allow me to have a look at it.”

“Oh that’s out of the question! …Hehe, I see right through your cowardly little plan.” Tohri bared his teeth, “You’re intending on stealing my weapon while I let my guard down, huh? And you’re currying favor with me, too? What a rat you are.”

Shuu thinned his lips. “…I am not. That is your  _ own _ theory regarding my personality and intentions… Again.”

“Grrrrr.”

Tohri breathed in, and breathed out. With one hand covering his chin, and the other hiding the gun behind his back, he intensely delved into thought.

“…Alright. Isa Souma.” he slowly revealed the weapon again. “I’ll showcase you, a grandiose and exclusive review of the DIMENSION BOMBER. But! You are not allowed to move either of your hands even the littlest bit! If I notice you even budge a finger, I’ll blow it off instantly, capiche~?”

“Capiche.” responded Shuu in a more accurate Italian accent.

Tohri cleared his throat, and imagined that he is the host of a most magnificent infomercial. Charisma boosted by 80P! Energy boosted by 50P!

“Well let’s take a look at it then!” Tohri’s thumb pressed into a panel of the gun’s handle. The little mechanism unfurled and unfolded right in front of Shuu, revealing an intricate set of metals, glowing lights, wires, and even what appeared to be even a motherboard—all of which is usually compactly hidden within the gun’s insides.

“Is that a system fan?” asked Shuu, “Why would a gun require a fan?”

“Excellent question, my dear rival! You see, you are already mistaking yourself by interpreting this artistic weapon as a mere ‘gun’. Not a single bullet is needed for it to fire! This optical weapon generates enough heat and energy to form bullets right within itself! Naturally, at such a tight space, the pressure needs to get out somehow without the whole thing exploding in my hand… Hence why the perfectly designed cooling system. Oh, I have boundless research papers explaining the sheer genius of this thing. But unfortunately it seems like you won’t have enough time to read those!” Tohri shrugged sarcastically.

“I see. If it truly works, then that sure sounds like an incredible piece of engineering… Almost too good to be true.”

“You!”

“Mm.” Doctor Iwamine squinted behind those red rimmed glasses of his. “Sir, you are standing quite far away from here. I can’t recognize those small mechanisms very well… I am near-sighted. Would you mind stepping just one bit closer?”

Tohri squinted too. But unlike Shuu, not from a health issue. His chin wrinkled from the grimace that he pulled. This partridge is so damn unreadable. He’s plotting something without a doubt, isn’t he?

“Well. Very well. Henceforth, I move ten centimeters closer.”

“How about fifteen?” Shuu asked hastily, still staring into Tohri’s eyes very seriously.

“…Fifteen…” the pheasant’s tone turned low, “…I can allow it…”

A cuban heel steps, very slowly, engulfed in carefulness foremost, forward. Tohri’s face, which has been until now shrouded in a light shadow, revealed its full colors once the afternoon rays of sun caressed his cheekbones. A furrow-browed expression on that beautiful face did not leave, however. He kept the gun as closely to his chest as possible, without looking too paranoid.

“My hands are down here, Nishikikouji.” Shuu did not move them. They were still visibly resting on his thighs.

“…Thank you. And now…”

The doctor very slowly leant his head forward. The intense staring contest did not end, by all means. In total silence, like two cats preparing to lunge at one another when the second is right— The two researchers glared at each other, and Shuu’s face continued to come closer. Millimeter by millimeter. The similar rays of golden sun that revealed Tohri have now began to travel up the bridge of Shuu’s nose.

“Now,” Shuu began nonchalantly, “What is this silver, mirror-like wall within the mechanism? Does it assist with the formation of a deadly ray bullet by constant looping between reflective surfaces?”

Tohri tilted the entirely golden gun within his hand. He tilted it just slightly. Practically not at all, and yet…

In that moment, Shuu’s head tilted forward and to the side as well. The ray of sunlight from outdoors slipped into the room, reflecting from the golden sheen of the gun, and continued to reflect— Aiming for the lens of Shuu’s glasses. The lens lit up a white glow, and the ray continued to reflect—

Right into Tohri’s one and only revealed eye.

“KYAA—!!!” A piercing shriek came out of the artist’s throat, stumbling back and screwing his eyes shut, blinded. His arm flailing aimlessly in the air— Shuu saw a window of opportunity, and ripped the device out of Tohri’s hand. When Tohri tried opening his eyes again, it was still shrouded by a white orb in the center of his vision. Rubbing his eyes, he could only hear the sound of something being thrown at the wall, and shattering like a porcelain plate.

“What did YOU—!!” Tohri’s voice peaked once his vision began to return, immediately swinging towards the wall he heard a sound from. His gaze traveled down to see the completely, utterly destroyed remains of his golden masterpiece. “N-No! No no no!! No no no no!!” his tone almost showed genuine despair as he dashed to the scrambled pieces on the floor. Tohri was quiet for a moment. His muscles became so tight that the man shivered.

Finally he turned his head to the other man and growled; “…Isa Souma…!”

“Oh my.” Shuu had not the slightest change in attitude. “It is even more brittle than I anticipate. Well, it…  _ was _ more brittle than I anticipated.”

“Why did you…” Tohri got up to his feet and stomped forward, fuming, “Why did you do that, you heathen?! Up until now you were accepting your defeat so perfectly!”

“Hmm…” The doctor looked down, at the hands which have politely returned to rest upon his lap, “…I suppose I changed my mind. There are still some things I have to do, and a promise to fulfill, you see. I can’t die yet.”

“You imbecile! It’s not like I…” Tohri yelled out, sounding as if it were to follow with something more furious, or more insults, but then stopped abruptly. He stammered, glaring into Shuu with every negative emotion he’s capable of. Balling his fists at his sides.

“You  _ actually _ destroyed my masterpiece! My invention! My one of a kind piece of art— There truly are no copies, and it took me almost a year to design this prototype! What were you thinking?! What are you  _ ever _ thinking?!”

Tohri pointed a finger at Shuu, or rather shoved it right at his face, gently pressing the tip of his nose.

“But it’s not like I’d…  _ a-actually _ kill y—”

He never finished that sentence, when a loud crash, followed by a loud thud, followed by the sound of impending feet approaching the infirmary, made Tohri glance towards the door, suddenly pale.

“S-Shit.” he hissed, eyes widening in worry.

_ This is it. This is the gist of his plan. _

It became obvious to Tohri.

_ He wasted their time for almost 4,500 words, waiting for someone to come by and rescue his ass! _

_ This cowardly fool! _

But Tohri has no time to express his frustrations. Only a weak, and whispered…

“ _ uncle!” _

Followed by swinging a window open and lunging in. The infirmary door slammed open when Tohri was crouching in the window frame like a wild assassin (wearing gaudy fur).

“There he is!” a white flashy dove aimed his machine gun at the pheasant, and immediately after, another figure loomed in the door. A cockatiel whose piercing glare stunned Tohri right there and then. It was the janitor, the incredibly attractive janitor, objectively speaking.

“You’ll be coming with me, sir.” he glowered into the warranted suspect.

“A-haha! You’re not catching me alive!” Like a super villain, with a completely changed demeanor, Tohri sung that with a charismatic grin. Before Yuuya could make a warning shot, Tohri has… leapt out of the window.

“Wait! He’s still escaping!” Yuuya took a step, but was halted by One who grabbed his shoulder. “It’ll be faster if I do it.”

“Eh. I thought I’m the marksm—”

But before Yuuya could finish that sentence, a puff of wind was all that was left behind when One took a dive for the window, and disappeared in the bushes as well.

Tohri ran. He definitely prepared for this situation, hence why he came in wearing his very special ‘aesthetic-athletic’ boots. St. Pigeonation’s thankfully has a very wide area to cover, with the Gardening Club itself taking up almost the half of property, in the far north of the grounds.

Obviously, Tohri did his homework and knew very well what can be found here. The shed, containing many gardening tools, and the solidly-sized garden. It has enough empty space to hold up tables and guests during some school events, but it also has plenty of bushes and tall shrubs.

Without a second thought, Tohri flew into the shrubs, rustling shortly. There should be a barbwire fence here that is a pain to climb over. But with Tohri’s brilliance and swiftness it shall be no problem.

But before Tohri could resume with his energetic escape, as he gracefully slicked through shrub after shrub, as he was approaching the center of the labyrinth, his eyes were met directly with an unimpressive looking quail. The man was holding a thermos in one hand, and clipped-together, checkered documents in the other.

“…Good morning.” the awkward pause seemed to be intentional. “…Can I…help you?”

“Uh.” Tohri stared at him with equally wide eyes. Then, a charismatic smile lit up his face, “You know what, yes, you can, quail!”

“If you see a large, rugged cockatiel, oozing with masculinity, running this way, tell him that I ran south, okay~?” Suddenly, there are three blue-colored yen bills in Tohri’s hand.

“………Uuuuuuuh-”

But before Hitori could ask questions and do what is right and legal, the money has been pressed into his gaping mouth, and the mysterious bird, whose gender Hitori could honestly not guess, disappeared yet again. He spat out the money into his hand obviously, his voice contorting in disgust at the foul flavor of the undeniably least hygienic things in the world.

He looked down. This is really, real money. He just got 3000 yen from a mysterious phasianid bird.

His eyes travelled to the barbwire, and to the shrubs, and the money again.

“…was that…an angel…?”

This time, Hitori flinched (very embarrassingly) when the shrubs made a loud rustling noise yet again. Mister One’s completely unfazed face looked down at the considerably smaller Hitori, casting a menacing shadow on his rightfully frightened complexion.

“Professor Uzune. Did you see a golden pheasant, about this tall, pass through here.”

“……Uuuuuuuh. Yes.” he replied slowly, “He ran…” Hitori pointed with a finger, “…South, from here. Should, should I call the authorities?”

“No. Thank you. Goodbye.”

And Mister One disappeared as quickly as he first appeared. Hitori could not even begin to comprehend the extent of how wild this situation just got. Also, that was the first time he saw Mister One roam outside of the school building. He is almost as much of a hermit as Iwamine.

“……what……” is all Uzune mumbled to himself. The sudden spike of adrenaline made him very, very sleepy.

And on another hand—

Yuuya was left standing there, in the infirmary door, still processing what happened as well. Finally his eyes landed on the doctor, who just witnessed all of that ‘mister one and sakazaki hunt a dangerously aesthetic with a gun, with guns as well’ without making a single sound.

“Ah. Well. Nice weather we having today don’t we, doctor~?”

“It’s an okay weather, by my standards.”

“Ohh, you and your standards.” Yuuya leaned against the door frame with a relaxed smile, as if he is not carrying a gun half of his height. “I hope you weren’t suffering too much, sir.”

“How kind of you to be worried about me, Sakazaki.” Shuu finally took his moment to stretch out his arm, a joint cracking audibly in the process. His eyes wandered to the bird cage, where Patient Kazu sipped on the fresh cool water.

His eyes traveled to the window, waving softly back and forth from the breeze, and then at the scattered, shimmering remains of an optical gun on the floor.

“Well, I have had worse days. But this was certainly a… memorable experience.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I had some issues writing this chapter! Can you tell? I wrote and rewrote Shuutohri’s meeting maybe three times entirely… it’s just that, obviously Tohri and Shuu’s meeting is such an important and interesting plot idea, that I wanted it to be perfect, which made me nervous! I always worry that I’m not writing Tohri correctly, since he has so many catchphrases and quirks, and I’d like to insert everything at once…  
> So here, he is quite a crazy ass. But hey, he’ll get better. If Shuu managed to not become a total lunatic, then Tohri can too, right?
> 
> Haha anyway— Thank you very much for reading as always! I hope that this fic made you feel baffled and strange, and that you’ll anticipate the future chapters~… z(•v•)/
> 
> UPDATE: I added a new chunk to the latter half of Tohri and Shuu’s meeting. I hope it’s a way more climatic, way more Hatoful-type conclusion. Also…… There’s no hiding it…… JoJo influence. If you’re into JoJo, I’m sure you can tell what I mean. LMAO I hope this was a fun chapter for y’all!


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